


Safe and Hallowed

by princesskay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Hannibal, Dark Will, Dildos, Established Relationship, Foot Fetish, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:15:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A botched night at the opera has Hannibal's mind turning to more exciting, enjoyable things. He has plans for when they get home, but so does Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and Hallowed

Being a wandering soul, Hannibal had always felt the joy of returning home more keenly than most of the world could appreciate. Wherever he went, no matter how many times he was uprooted, he found a place to call his own, to print his name on, to make safe and hallowed.

Riding in the passenger's seat of Will's Audi A3, on their way home from the opera, Hannibal felt the urge for that safety of home. Home is where the heart is, yes. More importantly, home is where you can let loose all your fears and inhibitions.

Rain pattered delicate and misty against the windshield, smudging the red and white tail lights ahead of them, and creating a shifting pattern across Will's serene expression. With one hand around the wheel, and the other resting casual on his knee, he seemed unaware of Hannibal's lurching desires.

Hannibal drew in a deep breath, and focused on the classical music spilling quiet and soothing through the speakers. Need hummed in the back of his mind, unavoidable, undeniable. His desire was so fierce he could have ordered Will to pull to the side of the road, but what he wanted required a bit more privacy and space.

“Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not sure if that was my style.” Will said, breaking the silence with a typically harsh review of Hannibal's opera choices.

Hannibal cleared his throat, and hummed a reply.

“I enjoy dark comedy.” Will said, holding up his free hand, “But that just seemed … crass.”

“You can choose next time if you aren't pleased with my choices.”

Will cast him a smile.

“Don't be offended.”

“I'm not.”

“I like it when we agree on everything.” Will said, “Unfortunately, it just doesn't happen very often.”

“If we agreed on everything, it would become a bore.”

Will's pause lengthened into silence as Hannibal shifted his gaze to the window. Anything to distract from the errant curls falling soft and stubborn across Will's forehead. Anything to distract from the perfect, symmetrical shape of his hands, the crooked tilt of his mouth, the definition of the tendons and blood vessels of his throat.

“Hey,” Will said.

Hannibal stiffened as Will's hand touched his knee.

“You seem distracted.”

Will's fingers tightened, drawing a whimper to the back of Hannibal's throat. He clutched onto Will's hand, desperate for reprieve at least until they arrived home.

“What is it?” Will asked, “If you want to lecture me about the redeeming characteristics of the opera we just saw, feel free; anything to make you feel better, dear.”

Hannibal's gaze swung back to Will, but he said nothing for the bone-shattering clench of his jaw.

Will caught Hannibal's burning gaze, and his expression shifted into one of surprise, then appreciation. His eyes darted to Hannibal's lap for a moment.

“You're hard, aren't you?”

Hannibal was grateful for the darkness as heat rushed to his face.

“Not entirely ...”

“You're getting there.”

Hannibal shifted in his seat, attempting to adjust his cock to a position that didn't pinch the throbbing flesh beneath his trousers.

“Hannibal ...” Will said, clicking his tongue softly, “You weren't paying attention to that opera anymore than I was, were you?”

“You're quite right when you say it was terrible. What other reprieve was there from the shameless mess on the stage than to look at you, and let my mind wander?”

Will bit back a smile as he focused on the road. His hand stayed on Hannibal's knee in a relaxed posture, but Hannibal was aware of the car moving faster than before.

They didn't speak again until they arrived home.

Tucked away in a quiet cross-section of French countryside, their home was set apart from the world, just the way Hannibal preferred it. The solid oak door stood between the world and the safety of the rooms and walls beyond. Inside, the furniture held the sum of their life here, and better yet, all the pleasurable things – perhaps the most pleasurable things Hannibal had experienced – they'd done together.

Hannibal stepped out of the car, and adjusted his erection with a gruff hand. Losing control was below him, yet frustration came dull and slow when the drug of choice was Will.

He followed Will to the front door, clenching his hands into fists as Will turned the key in the lock at a pace that felt excruciatingly slow to Hannibal's burgeoning desires.

Once inside, Hannibal shoved the door shut behind them, and caught Will by the hips. Will turned in his grasp, pressing up against Hannibal with a breathy moan that made Hannibal's knees weak.

Clutching Will's jaw, Hannibal pressed his mouth over the soft, moaning lips. Will shoved against him as the kiss devolved into biting teeth and swiping tongues smearing messy saliva and hot breaths.

Hannibal's back met with the door with a solid thud. Hannibal grunted, allowing himself to crushed against the door by the warm, ardent press of Will's body. Will's hand slid across his cheeks and back into his hair, yanking Hannibal's head back. Tingles washed across Hannibal's scalp, drawing a moan to his throat. He grasped at Will's chest, more out of desire to feel flesh under his fingertips than to regain control.

Will drew back, panting, eyes glinting in the bare illumination of the moon.

“What is it you want?” He murmured.

Hannibal closed his eyes as images and desires flashed hot through his mind, a dozen per second.

“I want you to take your clothes off.” He whispered, “I'll get the basin, and the washcloth.”

Will's breathing faltered for a moment. When Hannibal opened his eyes, he was smiling.

“What about after?” He asked.

Hannibal drew his tongue across his lips, parched and aching with need.

“You can do whatever you want with me.” He said.

Will gave a nod, and stepped back. Hannibal caught himself against the door as Will's hands ceased to support him.

He walked to the couch, and began to strip out of his clothing.

Hannibal steadied his feet under himself as he watched the tuxedo drop from Will's body, piece by piece. As he nudged his shoes off his feet, Hannibal bit back a swelling moan.

Shoving off the door, he marched past Will.

In the linen closet, a ceramic bowl sat on the top shelf. It was hand-painted with tiny, pastel flowers, and the rim was gilded with real gold. Hannibal had never used the bowl for serving. He'd found it in an antique shop in Prague, sitting on a high shelf, collecting dust, doomed to be displayed and unloved for the rest of it's existence. The moment Hannibal saw it, he knew what he would do with it, and thus, had saved the pretty basin from it's banal life.

He took the bowl down, and snatched a clean rag from the stack. Taking the bowl into the bathroom, he filled it with warm water, and poured in a generous amount of soap. He stirred the soap in with two fingers until it had created a fine layer of fluffy bubbles on the top of the water.

He carried the bowl back into the living room with steady hands, not spilling even a drop.

Will reclined on the couch, undressed and shifting with eagerness. His cock lay half-hard against his belly, veins producing a pronounced throb every few moments. He was filling up quickly without touching himself; Hannibal was pleased.

Setting the bowl on the floor, Hannibal began to strip out of his tuxedo.

Will tracked his movements with hazy eyes, his lower lip trapped between his teeth. His knees shifted apart wider, toes digging into the carpet to hoist his hips an inch higher.

Hannibal suppressed a moan as he shed his jacket, bowtie, and shirt.

The articles of clothing fell to the floor without regard for the fine material being wrinkled. His cock stood out hard against the front of his trousers, forcing his only focus onto Will's soft, lithe body stretched out before him.

Hannibal tugged his belt buckle open, and slid the zipper of his pants down. His only dignity remained in the controlled movements, teasing Will with the strip show.

His trousers pooled around his ankles with a thud of the belt buckle.

Will drew in a hitched breath, and tilted his head back against the couch cushions. His jaw clenched, displayed the taut tendons of his throat and prominent swell of his bobbing Adam's apple.

“Hurry ...” He pleaded, his voice threading delicate and high-pitch through the electrified silence.

Hannibal hooked his thumbs beneath his boxers, and peeled the clinging material from his hips. His cock sprang free of the elastic, eagerly throbbing harder when it was free of the suffocating material.

Will's eyelids fluttered, and his nostrils flared as Hannibal approached him.

Hannibal flicked a finger toward the bowl of water at Will's feet.

The silence hummed around them, thick with tension and need. Will shifted upright on the edge of the couch, and lifted his feet from the carpet. His feet arched like a ballet dancer as he brought them over the bowl, holding them aloft for several agonizing moments before lowering them.

Hannibal drew in a shallow breath. The sound of his pounding heart swelled in his head, and he sank to his knees, dizzy and breathless with need.

Will's feet dipped into the soapy water, submerging themselves at a slow, steady pace. He uttered a quiet hum of satisfaction at the warm temperature.

Hannibal snagged the rag from the floor, and shifted closer. His hands itched to grab Will's ankles and force them down into the water, but the throb in his cock had gone from aching, to a pleasantly painful drum that he relished. He stayed still, breathless, watching.

Will's moan grew louder as his feet sank all the way into the water, disturbing the basin of water. Soap lapped around his ankles, tiny bubbles clinging to the prominent form of bones.

Hannibal dragged his gaze from the erotic image of Will's submerged feet to catch Will's aroused expression.

“Go on.” Will murmured, a coy smile curling his mouth.

Hannibal swallowed at his dry throat. His fist clenched white-knuckled around the rag as he dipped the soft, Egyptian cotton into the water. Dipping the rag in and out, he gathered a generous amount of soap into the fabric before wringing out the excess water. The sound of the water droplets falling back into the bowl punctuated their shallow breathing.

Will's right foot shifted up out of the water, forming a small wave that lapped hard against the edge of the bowl. It paused an inch above the water, curling delectably in an offering.

Hannibal seized Will's ankle with a rushed breath of need. Will squeaked as Hannibal yanked him forward, forcing Will to the edge of the couch. Water and soap sluiced down Will's foot and dripped off the ends of his toes, splashing a few drops on Hannibal's naked thigh. All the curves of his foot gleamed and shone pink with the warm temperature of the water, and soap suds clung and dripped at the rounded edges of his ankle bones.

Hannibal bit back a moan as he brought the rag to Will's foot for the first time. The soft, wet cotton slid across the top of Will's foot, a slow drag that took captive both of their breaths. Hannibal circled the rag underneath to stroke the sole of Will's foot, eliciting a clench of Will's toes.

Will released a low sigh. He sank back against the couch cushions, his expression blissful and flushed.

Hannibal let out a slow breath, trying to ease the pace of his breathing and pounding heart as he brought the rag over and around Will's heel. Will's foot arched in Hannibal's grasp, and his toes spread apart, curling and pleading. Hannibal brought the rag over them, rubbing gently and drawing a soft moan from Will's mouth. His foot arched deeper, shoving into Hannibal's hand in eagerness and satisfaction that matched Hannibal's throbbing cock.

Hannibal rubbed the rag down over the curve of the sole, fascinated by the arch and the thread of veins webbing down the instep and inner curve.

Will panted softly, eyes cracking open to watch Hannibal with hazy blue eyes.

“Hannibal ...” He moaned.

Hannibal replied with a devious smile. He polished the bottom of Will's foot with added pressure, dragging the rag up and down the arch of Will's foot at a quick tempo until Will pulled his foot back, moaning an objection.

“Be gentle.” He moaned, “I might kick you.”

Hannibal snagged Will's ankle as he dipped the rag back into the warm water. He brought the cloth back, dripping and soapy, around Will's curling toes.

Will relaxed again, and whimpered his appreciation as Hannibal went over his foot with a soft touch.

“Good, good.” He whispered, his teeth nipping at his lower lip.

Hannibal glanced up Will's tensing thighs, the pink swell of his balls, and at last, the curve of his thick, hard cock. His own cock jumped against his belly, restless and impatient with desire.

He set Will's foot back into the water, and lifted the other. Flesh wet and soapy, Will's foot slid against Hannibal's hand until Hannibal gripped at the arch.

Will's nostrils flared as the rag touched his other foot, warm and soft and gentle against the top of his foot, and between his toes.

“Yes ...” Will whispered.

His foot arched as Hannibal drew the rag across the ball of his foot and the arch.

Hannibal grasped Will's ankle higher in front of his face. His tongue slid appreciatively across his lower lip as he dragged the rag down the center of the sole of Will's foot.

Will gasped, foot bucking against Hannibal's hold. Hannibal dropped the rag, and clutched Will's foot with both hands.

Will's eyes slipped open as the bathing ceased, and Hannibal's bare hand took hold.

Hannibal rose to his knees, cradling Will's foot with both hands. Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss against Will's wet ankle. His mouth paused there, flared nostrils breathing hot, need breaths up Will's calf, his mouth branding Will's ankle like an iron.

Will bit down on his lower lip as Hannibal's mouth shifted down the inside of his foot to the arch. Lips parting, he kissed open-mouth along the curve of Will's foot. His eyes pinned shut as if in a prayer, and his chest hardly moved to breath. His fingers curled vice like around Will's ankle, holding him helpless to do anything but lie back against the couch.

Will's hips twisted against the couch as Hannibal reached the ball of his foot. His tongue flicked out, tracing the subtle swell of bone that led to Will's first toe. He paused at the tip of the toe, breathing hot across the wet flesh. Will blinked, eyes pinned to the proximity of Hannibal's plush lips and his toe, lungs hardly breathing in a shuddering breath.

Hannibal tilted his head forward, sliding Will's toe past his lips, past the gentle scrape of his teeth, up against the warm, velvet texture of his tongue. He suckled down, suctioning his lips around the base of the toe, and dragging the pad of the toe back and forth against his tongue.

Will groaned, foot arching and shoving against Hannibal's chin. The sensation shot up through his foot and leg, finding it's way into his groin where planted itself firm and hot. His cock throbbed harder against his belly, already leaking a bit in anticipation.

Hannibal clutched Will's foot harder, holding it in nearly crushing submission as he moved to the next pair of toes. These ones being smaller, he suckled on two at time, lips stretching around them to the base. He moaned into Will's flesh, pleasure vibrating through the intricate bones of Will's foot.

“Oh, Jesus.” Will moaned.

He braced himself against the couch cushions as Hannibal sucked off of his foot, and leaned back to observe the pink hue he'd left behind on the flesh.

“I-I need ...”

Will's plea was cut off by Hannibal's lips around his last two toes, sucking hard and adamant like a child in need of nourishment. Will's foot bucked involuntarily against Hannibal's face, discouraging the aggressive suckling for the briefest of moments.

Hannibal's hand clamped around the middle of Will's foot, forcing his foot into submission. He crawled on his knees closer to the couch, giving Will no other choice but to bend his knee up against his chest to accommodate the closeness while Hannibal kept his mouth firmly wrapped around Will's toes.

Will lifted his other foot off the ground, and wedged it between them. His toes brushed against Hannibal's cock, bringing Hannibal's ministrations to a sudden halt. Hannibal's mouth slid wetly from Will's toes, and his eyes sprang open.

Clutching onto Will's foot, he shifted a few inches back to allow the other one to slide along the length of his hard cock.

Will bit his lower lip in concentration, eyes pinned to Hannibal's drugged expression as he dragged his foot along the throbbing shaft.

“Oh ...” Hannibal whispered.

His belly clenched hard as Will's foot thrilled his cock with wave after wave of pleasure. A moan came with every stroke, the pleasure too good to swallow back for the sake of his pride.

“I ...” He choked out, “Will, I … I need you to make me come.”

Will licked his lips, and blew out breathy sigh. “Just like this?”

Hannibal swallowed back a whimper as Will's foot slipped underneath his balls. He shifted his knees farther apart, and felt Will's toes ride up between his ass cheeks.

“Oh, Christ.” He hissed past clenched teeth. “Will ...”

Will bit back a growing smile. He dragged his foot back up over the swell of Hannibal's balls and his rigid cock. He scaled all the way to the tip, and let Hannibal's cockhead slide between his first two toes as he came back down. His toes gripped foreskin, dragging it back from the head and exposing a trail of leaking pre-cum that oozed from the slit.

“ _Christ_.” Hannibal repeated in a low growl.

Will withdrew his foot abruptly. Hannibal's eyes flashed open, his chest jolting with desperate need at the sudden loss of pleasure.

Will sat up, and pressed a rough kiss to Hannibal's plump, dangling lips. He stretched his foot out to the bowl still at their feet, and dipped his foot in to wet it once more.

“How close are you?” Will murmured.

Hannibal's eyelids fluttered against his flushed cheeks, and his lips moved without a sound. He clutched at Will's knee, breathing out whined moan.

Will brought his foot back up, dripping water across the carpet, and finally against Hannibal's hard, pulsing cock.

Completely hard, the head peeked just past foreskin, flashing pink and pearly droplets of pre-cum. His belly trembled with every throb of need, giving Will just the answer he wanted without having to speak.

He gasped as Will's foot returned to his cock. Will's toes were warm and soft against his head, gripping just enough to drag the foreskin down against the shaft. His cockhead popped free, throbbing full and pink and leaking.

“Jesus ...” Hannibal moaned, his eyes squeezing shut against the wave of pleasure.

Will bit his lower lip in concentration as he dragged his foot all the way down the shaft. The ball of his foot pressed at the top swell of Hannibal's balls, applying just enough pressure to illicit a high-pitched moan from Hannibal's twisted lips. He slid a bit lower, drawing the ball of his foot in a massaging circle against the taut, aching testicles.

“Will ...” Hannibal groaned, his jaw clenching around the pathetic whisper.

His eyes shifted open for a brief moment to meet Will's gleaming, satisfied gaze. They slammed shut again the moment Will's foot climbed back up his cock. Will's foot curled around the shaft, dragging Hannibal's hard, upright cock downward.

Hannibal stumbled forward as the pressure increased, exploding through his nerve endings with a tantalizing mixture of pleasure and pain.

Will relented after several choked pleas from Hannibal's lips, only to pile on the unbearable pleasure by pressing his other foot against the front of Hannibal's cock. Both feet wrapped around his cock, toes and heels meeting with Hannibal's cock trapped in between, throbbing toward the point of completion. They slid up to the head, and back down, dragging foreskin back as far as it could stretch. One pair of toes slid up to stroke against the exposed head, swirling leaking pre-cum against the tender slit.

“Fuck.” The word spilled past his lips without the censorship of his typically present dignity. His mind was a blank canvas except for the pleasure, and the vulgar syllable was the only cry he could think to relieve the building pressure against his chest.

“Fuck, Will.” He repeated, the words grinding from his mouth in trembling, if not surprising clarity.

Will's toes slid against his head as the pre-cum gathered to a steady stream. Hannibal glanced down, and nearly lost his breath as he caught a glimpse of Will's goes covered in his juices.

Will's first two toes stretched apart to accommodate Hannibal's shaft, and slid back down to share Hannibal's leaking pre-cum with the rest of his throbbing flesh. Both feet shifted back into motion, grinding up and down the shaft at a merciless rhythm. Water and pre-cum allowed just enough moisture, yet just enough friction to let Will's feet slide and burn against Hannibal's steel-hard cock.

Hannibal fell forward, hiding his face against Will's knee as the pleasure mounted. Will's knee worked back and forth underneath his head, but Hannibal clung to him as his only source of stability while the rest of his body fell apart to the pleasure.

Fingers digging into the bunched muscle of Will's calf, Hannibal stiffened and gasped against the oncoming pleasure. Will's feet did not cease their stroking as Hannibal's hips began to buck, and his cock spilled hot spurts of milky cum. Pleasure exploded like fireworks behind Hannibal's eyes, and all else ceased to exist save for his unwinding body and the deft caress of Will's feet. His cock spilled time after time, body giving up every shudder and twist and spasm it could manage until he was wrung of strength, emptied of moisture.

The sound of his pounding heart came back into focus as he sank back against the carpet. Lights swam at the corners of his vision, and the great tingle of pleasure faded to a warm, hazy hum of aftershocks at his core.

Will gazed at him with small, pleased smile that bordered on amusement.

Hannibal's gaze shifted his feet. His toes were dripping with cum and tiny remainders of soap and water.

Hannibal stretching a trembling hand, and pulled the bowl back in front of the couch.

Will lowered his feet back into the water, and sat back against the cushions.

Hannibal fished the rag out of the basin, and washed Will's feet in silence. The only sound between them was their shallow breaths, and in Hannibal's head, the wild drum of his heart.

Will's cock rested hard and dusky against his belly, throbbing eagerly, yet his expression was calm; he was willing to wait.

When Hannibal finished the second washing of Will's feet, he forced himself to stand on weak legs. He went back to the linen closet for dry towel, and returned to the living room.

Will lifted his feet out of the water, and watched Hannibal with a focused, calculating gaze as Hannibal dried his feet.

“You said I could do anything.” He whispered.

Hannibal paused for a brief moment, before continuing to dry Will's feet.

“Yes.” He said.

“I like how you looked just now.” Will said, “At my mercy.”

“We've done this before. It's not a new occurrence.” Hannibal said.

“But you've never come that hard.” Will said, his voice dipping into an aroused whisper, “How do you feel? Drained?”

Hannibal's throat turned to fire that quickly consumed up to his cheekbones. He gripped Will's ankle tighter, and bit back a snappy reply.

“Yes.” He said, stiffly.

“I don't think you are.” Will said.

He pulled his feet out of Hannibal's grasp, and set them firmly on the floor. Seizing Hannibal's chin, he forced their gazes to meet.

“I think you have a lot left to give.” Will said.

Hannibal drew in a hitched breath. His wilted cock gave a twinge of fresh life, all too eager to take on Will's assertions.

“I want to wring you dry.” Will whispered, “Until you're limp, and weak, and and coming dry by the time I've pulled the last possible orgasm out of you.”

Hannibal swallowed convulsively, his eyelashes batting, his lips falling open but mute.

“I ...” He whispered, his voice hoarse and paper-thin, “I … I want that, too.”

“Is that what you were thinking about at the opera?” Will asked, his mouth tilting in a devilish smile.

“I was thinking about many things.”

“Did you think about my mouth wrapped around your tight little hole? My fingers, all them, buried inside you?”

Hannibal choked on his reply, and searched desperately for his voice as Will rose to his feet above him. Will's fingers closed around the hair at his crown, dragging his head back with forceful tug. His other hand wrapped around his hard cock, holding it just inches from Hannibal's face.

“My cock, slamming into you … _wrecking_ you ...”

“Yes, Will.” Hannibal panted.

Hannibal bit at his lower lip to hold back a moan as Will dragged his cock across his cheek. The head smeared across his mouth for a brief moment, and Hannibal opened his mouth eagerly, only to be rewarded by Will's hard cock slapping against the corner of his lips with stinging force.

Hannibal swung his head away, mouth stinging, but Will forced his head back up.

“Open your eyes.” Will murmured.

Hannibal cracked his eyes open, breath clogging at the back of his throat as Will held his cock tight against his hip. Long, breathless moments passed before Will released his cock, allowing it to swing back outward and alongside Hannibal's cheek.

“Will,” Hannibal moaned, clutching at Will's hip.

Will's mouth formed a taut smile as red bloomed on Hannibal's cheek.

“You want it?” He asked.

Hannibal carefully lifted his mouth toward Will's cock, parting his lips in shuddering offering. His eyelids blinked rapidly in anticipation, and slammed shut as Will tapped the head of his cock against his lower lip.

“Say it.” Will murmured.

He rubbed his cock head along Hannibal's lower lip as Hannibal struggled to form a reply.

“Yes ...” Hannibal panted, “Will, I … I want your cock … Please ...”

Another smack, hard cross his mouth. Hannibal whimpered, and drew back hard, his eyes squeezed shut as stinging pain swelled across his lips.

“Please ...” He groaned.

Will released him with a thrust, throwing Hannibal back against the carpet.

“Roll over.” Will ordered, motioning with his index finger.

Hannibal scrambled to roll onto his stomach. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Will, and saw him walking out of the room.

Hannibal measured his breathing as he waited. Anticipation curled low in his belly, nudging his cock awake. Need hummed in already sated flesh, and his cock produced a few eager throbs at the thought of what else Will might do with him tonight.

Will's familiar tread heralded his return. He came back into the living room, carrying a bottle of lube. He knelt down behind Hannibal, and gave his thigh a pat.

“Spread them.”

Hannibal shifted his legs apart, giving Will access to kneel between them.

Much to his surprise, Will set the lube aside. Hannibal cranked his head to the side to watch over his shoulder as Will shifted down to his stomach behind him. His thumb dragged across Hannibal's flank, and slowly inward to find his puckered hole. The first caress dragged his muscles taut, and jarred alive every nerve-ending in that area. His hips rolled upward of their own accord, ingrained pathways in his body functioning where his languid, pleasure weak brain could not.

Will smoothed his thumb back and forth across the opening, creating a low, burning friction for long moments while Hannibal's moans built back to the edge of arousal. With Hannibal's hips twitching, and his hole clenching in anticipation, Will lowered his head and flicked out his tongue.

Hannibal pressed his face into the carpet, and fought to remain still as Will's tongue gave tiny, warm flicks across his tender, clutched opening. The rhythm moved all over his hole, wetting the flesh and building the tension until Hannibal burst out a ragged moaned.

Hannibal dug his fingers into his hair and gripped hard as Will pressed the length of his tongue up and down the cleft. Each stroke came warm and wet, passing over his hole rough, casual almost. He licked until the cleft was wet and gleaming with his saliva, and Hannibal was moaning low and desperate into the carpet.

He seized Hannibal's ass cheeks with rough hands, and spread him open, vulnerable. His tongue returned, this time focused on the taut, trembling pucker at the center. Hannibal's hips arched up eagerly, presenting himself as Will pressed his tongue against the opening.

“Oh … oh my god ...” Hannibal moaned.

Will hummed a pleased reply that vibrated through Hannibal's flesh and into his quaking core. Will's tongue swirled against him, tip finding it's way to the clenched opening several times, but always darting back away just as Hannibal thought it would breach him. He licked all over the hole, and down to the top of his balls, leaving behind drops of saliva that slid generous and hot across Hannibal's flesh.

It was more than Hannibal could take, and with only a few moments of pleasuring behind them, his hips began to undulate in a needy rhythm against Will's mouth.

Will drew back, chin gleaming with saliva. He grasped Hannibal's ass cheek hard, holding him still with his hips raised several inches off the carpet.

“Sit still.” He murmured, his breath spilling hot across Hannibal's wet flesh, “I'm going to open you, inch by inch, and you're going to take it like a good boy.”

Hannibal let out a ragged breath, and dropped his forehead against the carpet. He squeezed his eyes shut against the images and pleas swimming in his mind. He wanted Will to dip his finger inside, wanted him to wrench Hannibal open like a sealed clam. Hannibal could take the moments of throbbing pain if it meant having Will inside him faster. It was this slow, excruciating pleasuring that went on and on for what felt like eternity that drove him mad.

Yet, he could not disappoint Will in any way. He couldn't turn away any sort of pleasure that Will offered him. He was living the rest of his life at his beautiful and cruel man's mercy.

Will's breath came back to him, fiery and measured, spilling down the cleft as a prelude to his soft, velveteen lips. Will lapped at his hole, renewing the sheen of saliva, before he fitted his lips around the blooming pucker just as he'd said.

Hannibal moaned, hips rocking back against the pressure of Will's mouth. Will suckled down on him, pulling flesh deeper and deeper against his tongue. Hannibal could feel himself swelling against the carpet, his recently vacated cock growing hard and ready to spill once more.

Will's clamped lips sucked off of the tender flesh for a brief moment, and caught back on again. Hannibal trembled and whimpered, hips aching to buck and twist away from the tormenting pleasure. His muscles quivered as he held himself still and open, hips locked in a sharp curve up against Will's mouth.

Will's mouth broke the suction, releasing Hannibal's throbbing hole to ache and tingle alone. Hannibal panted in shallow bursts as stars shone behind his eyes. He peeked over his shoulder to watch Will's tongue slither from between his divine lips and touch his burning flesh. The velvet texture of Will's tongue spilled across his hole, dripping saliva into the quivering opening, and soothing the lurching ache his clamped lips and teeth had left behind.

At last, Will's tongue stiffened, and the tip slid past the initial clench of muscle and pink, puckered flesh. Hannibal's gasped, eyes rolling back as pleasure swam low in his belly. Will's tongue slithered into him, a slow, drumming pressure that eased back the resistance of Hannibal's clenching muscles to plunge all the way inside.

“Oh, Jesus ...” Hannibal moaned, his mouth forming the words before his mind could consent.

Will's grip tightened on Hannibal's ass cheeks, spreading the flesh open wide. His tongue speared in deeper, until his mouth was up against Hannibal's flesh, as far as he could go.

When he drew back, Hannibal let out a gasping breath, all his muscles go weak and powerless. Will pulled his hips back into position with a low command. Dipping his tongue back inside, he reached between Hannibal's spread legs to find his growing cock. Hannibal moaned, hips lurching with sudden alertness. Will's fist curled tight around his cock, gently guiding Hannibal back against his mouth.

“Will ...” Hannibal moaned, “Oh, Christ, Will ...”

Will dipped his tongue in and out of Hannibal's trembling, opening hole, tasting him all the way to the depths with every stroke. Hannibal's body caved to the warm, wet lap of Will's tongue, ready to take Will's cock already if only Will would have mercy on him.

Hannibal dug his knees into the carpet, leveraging his hips back against the stroke of Will's tongue. Will's hand gripping his cock had all the power to make him sit still like a good boy, but his fingers remained lax around the throbbing flesh as Hannibal rutted in abject desperation.

He swirled his tongue around the stretched hole, in and out of the deep, warm opening, tasting every part with leisurely moans that gave no indication he would be done eating anytime soon. His hunger was unsatisfied, half-cruel desires and devious need for control over Hannibal keeping Hannibal moaning, bucking, and pleading beneath him, on the verge of another explosive orgasm.

He pulled back abruptly, and Hannibal's hips swayed in the air for a few long seconds after before realizing Will's tongue was gone.

“Will, please . . .” Hannibal panted, casting a pained expression over his shoulder.

Will drew the back of his hand across his mouth, and released a pleased sigh.

“You should think harder when you tell me I can do whatever I want with you.” He murmured.

“You're too cruel, darling.” Hannibal panted, “I'm begging you not to torture me like this.”

“I like it when you beg.” Will said.

He rose to his feet, and put his hands on his hips. His eyes narrowed as if in deep thought.

Hannibal made an attempt to rise to his knees, but Will planted a foot on his lower back.

“Stay down there.” He ordered, “Don't move.”

Hannibal lapsed back against the carpet as Will turned on his heel and marched back down the hallway.

Hannibal released a low sigh, and waited. His nerves ticked in the back of his mind like a hands of a clock, eager for the next minute, the next hour – the next second was never enough.

Will came back only a few moments later.

Hannibal moaned in protest the moment he saw that Will was holding a huge, realistic dildo, complete with big, flared head, and throbbing veins. It's black color only made it all the more ominous.

“Will, please-”

Will clicked his tongue like he did when he reprimanded one of the dogs.

“Hush.”

Hannibal bit back a swelling plea, a bargain, anything. He knew it would avail him nothing but wasted breath and pathetic words.

Will knelt down behind him, and grabbed the lube. The sound of the lid cracking open sent a shiver down Hannibal's spine.

Will poured out the lube directly over and into Hannibal's open, quaking hole. He rubbed another dose onto the dildo, attracting Hannibal's hazy gaze. His fist stroked the huge, black shaft as if it were his own, or better yet, Hannibal's. Hannibal groaned at the thought of coming as easily and as hard as he had the first time around.

This was his penance for asking strange things out of Will – or so Will pretended. He enjoyed the foot bathing as much as Hannibal; both of them knew it – neither of them mentioned it when Will capitalized on a chance to dominate and humiliate him.

Will hummed his approval as he finished polishing the dildo with lube.

He brought the toy to Hannibal's hole, dragging the warm, wet head back and forth for a few, torturous moments.

Hannibal bit his lower lip, and forced himself to relax as the pressure began.

Will was slow and gentle, working the girth of the dildo down Hannibal's hole with enough tenderness to nearly convince Hannibal that he didn't enjoy Hannibal's hole suffering to accommodate the massive dildo.

Hannibal was silent until the final inch. When Will pushed the dildo completely into him, he couldn't hold back a cry of pleasure and pain that accompanied that final stretch.

“God.” Hannibal groaned, fists clenching around his hair, “Oh, Christ, fuck.”

Will murmured a satisfied sound, and patted Hannibal's flank.

“That's right.” He whispered.

“Will ...” Hannibal moaned, “Please.”

“I know you want me to take it out, but I can't do that.” Will said.

“What do you want me to do?” Hannibal whispered, raggedly.

Will stood back up, and circled around to stand in front of him. Hannibal cracked his eyes open to see Will's feet in front of him, still soft and smelling of soap from the bathing.

“Get up on your hands and knees.” Will said.

Hannibal untangled his hands from his hair, and braced them against the carpet. Barely a shift of his body, and he could feel the dildo pressing huge and on the verge of painful inside him. He rose slow and steady to his hands and knees, biting back hisses and moans as the dildo pressed up against his prostate.

“Good boy.” Will praised, stroking a hand through Hannibal's hair.

Hannibal closed his eyes against the recurring waves of pleasure and pain. He couldn't move a centimeter without feeling the pressure of the dildo. Hell, he couldn't move at all without enduring the agonizing press of it against his aching prostate. His cock hung hard and taut between his legs, swollen to the maximum, beginning to drip with need. If he stroked himself, he would come; if Will touched him for even a moment, he would be spilling all over himself.

“Follow me.” Will said.

Hannibal's eyes jarred open at the command.

Will turned to walk back down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Hannibal was following him.

Biting down on his lower lip, Hannibal crawled after him. Each step Will took appeared long and easy, but moving forward only inch was long and excruciating for Hannibal. Every time he shifted on leg forward, the dildo would rub to one side. When he moved the other leg, the dildo shifted the opposite direction.

He made slow progress across the living room and down the hallway, his lips threatening to spill every moan and plea the longer it took to get to the bedroom. The dildo was merciless, and Will stood ahead of him in the hallway, arms crossed, lips slashed in a devious smile, cruel as an ancient god playing with his tiny, powerless creations.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hannibal reached the doorway of the bedroom.

Will was just across the threshold, waiting and watching with gleaming eyes. He patted his thigh, and crooned, “Here, boy.”

Hannibal grunted, and bit back a curse. He would get nothing if he responded to Will's jabs which he knew Will was inserting for his own sordid fun.

Hannibal forced himself to crawl faster, powering through the final strides to the edge of the bed with his jaw locked tight over a hundred pained and pleasured moans.

“Get on the bed.” Will said.

Hannibal rose to his knees, and clutched on to the edge of the mattress. He pulled himself up slowly, gasping at the dildo pressed deeper inside him. He stumbled forward against the mattress, fingers curling around the comforter to support his trembling legs.

Will circled the bed, watching Hannibal's slow, agonizing climb onto the bed with plotting eyes. Once Hannibal was on the bed, he flicked a finger at him.

“Now, the real show begins.” He said.

Hannibal panted and gulped back a question. He watched as Will paced in front of the bed, his hand lingering at his mouth in thought.

“I know you've got a real tight ass.” Will said, his mouth curling back to reveal the sharp flash of his teeth. A chuckle spilled out as he stopped pacing to stand in front of Hannibal, “But, I want you to move the dildo.”

Hannibal swallowed hard.

Will stepped closer, gazing directly into Hannibal's eyes with only a few inches between them.

“I want you to fuck yourself with it.” Will added in a low whisper, “I don't want you to stop until you come.”

Hannibal let out a slow breath to release the pressure building on his chest. His head swam with thoughts of pleasure and release, not a single shred of rebellion despite the humiliation of the huge dildo shoved up his ass.

Will's eyes brightened as Hannibal reached behind himself without a sound of argument.

Hannibal's teeth clamped over his lower lip as he took hold of the end of the dildo. When he gave a pull, his body clamped tight around the thick shaft. Moaning, he worked the dildo back and forth until his muscles gave up and released it to slide back out of his hole.

The dildo slid out to the tip, leaving his body raw and empty, aching to be filled again. He was gaping and dripping with lube, ready to be fucked time and time again if Will so desired. For now the dildo was all he had.

Hannibal braced his other hand on the bed as he shoved the dildo back inside. A grunt spilled past his lips as the head of the dildo butted up against his prostrate. No finesse was required to stroke the small pleasure spot when the dildo was this big. Every stroke of the fake cock struck against his core, rattling pleasure and sizzling hot need through his veins.

Will circled the bed, eyes wide and gleaming with pleasure as he watched Hannibal's back arch and tremble against the self-inflicted thrusts of the massive dildo. His hand pressed to his mouth, pinning back moans of cruel voyeurism that pulled his own cock taut and hard against his belly.

He reached down with his other hand to touch himself, stroking languidly as Hannibal thrust the dildo desperately deep inside himself. His gaze shifted Hannibal's cock jutting hard and purple with over-filled veins from between his trembling thighs. It was dripping tiny drops of pre-cum onto the sheets, aching to come.

“Are you almost there?” Will asked, his voice laced with a quiver.

Hannibal's chin was tucked tight against his chest, and perspiration gleamed on every inch of his body. His ragged panting came loud and harsh in the silence, punctuated by the obscene, wet sounds of the dildo fucking into him.

Through the panting and moaning, Will heard a soft whimper.

“Yes ….”

Hannibal's whole body trembled, but his wrist and arm burned most of all as he worked the dildo in and out of himself at desperate, fevered tempo. He was so close to the edge, his body tingling, his cock seizing and dripping, his belly clutching with molten pleasure. He couldn't stop. Had to come. Had to relieve this raw, aching need clawing through his body.

His eyes jarred open when Will clambered onto the bed behind him. He slapped Hannibal's hand away from the dildo, and replaced it with his own.

“Touch yourself.” Will ordered in his ear, “Jerk it hard, and don't stop.”

Hannibal gasped as Will seized the end of the dildo, and pumped it hard into him. Will had a much better angle to guide the dildo inside than Hannibal had, and despite having touched his prostate with his own fucking, Will was capable of doing far more damage with the dildo in his hand.

Hannibal grabbed onto his cock, moaning sharp and loud at the single touch. His cock throbbed hard into his palm, spilling pre-cum between his fingers. The thrust of the dildo jarred him into motion. He rubbed in tempo with Will's thrusts with the dildo, following Will's precise instructions with all the driving force and abandon of a runaway train.

With the dildo driving up against his prostate, and his hand rubbing himself raw, he came hard a for a second time. Fresh pleasure burst through his body, hitting like a shock wave at the core and spreading up through his chest. Hips bucking under the force of pleasure, he felt the release rush up through his cock burst free in long, warm jets of come that poured down his knuckles and spattered across the sheets. Any control he had left scattered to the wind; he moaned and whined high-pitched, keening loud and desperate through the entirety of the climax as if it was the first he'd ever felt.

As the pleasure abated, Hannibal dropped to his elbows against the sheets, breathing hard. His head spun and tilted, ears buzzing with the affirmation of absolute pleasure.

Will gently extricated the dildo from his body.

The emptiness left behind made Hannibal ache even deeper than before. He whimpered, reaching back for Will in a mindless attempt to close that aching space inside him. Though the two were synonymous, he didn't think about being fucked again, only making the ache stop.

Will slid up behind him, whispering a soothing string of praises that melded into one, long hum in Hannibal's muddled brain.

Will pulled Hannibal up against him, and wound his arms around Hannibal's chest. Hannibal's head lolled back against his shoulder, dark, unfocused eyes searching out Will's.

“I love it when you come like that.” Will whispered, “When you can't control yourself anymore.”

Hannibal swallowed against his dry throat, and licked his lips. He thought to work up a reply, but his body and brain all felt like limp noodles.

Will pressed a row of kisses along his cheek and jaw, lips warm and grounding, dragging Hannibal back to reality.

Will laid him back against the sheets, and climbed over him, finding his way between Hannibal's limp thighs.

“Now it's my turn.” He whispered.

Hannibal whimpered as Will pushed his thighs up against his chest, exposing his backside. He was wet with saliva and lube, still open from the merciless drive of the big dildo. Will's cock slipped into him with ease, rubbing up against the raw flesh with hot, throbbing veins.

“Oh, god ...” Hannibal choked out.

He clutched at the sheets as Will thrust lazily against him, hips rolling and smacking against Hannibal's backside. Everything was raw and pounding with sensitivity, and the very touch of Will's cock inside him was like a fiery branding iron. Yet, he didn't want it to stop.

Will's tilted his head back, and released a low, pleasured sigh.

“You're so warm … so open.” He murmured, tongue sliding along his lower lip, “God, you feel so good.”

Hannibal's eyes rolled back as Will rocked deeper into him, cockhead brushing at his prostate.

“Don't stop ...” He panted, his voice raw from moaning.

“I'm not.”

Will leaned over Hannibal's limp, yet responsive body, clutching Hannibal's jaw to join their gazes.

“Not ever ...”

Hannibal looped weak arms around Will's neck, clutching him close as the gradual thrusts shifted to a steady rhythm of shallow but passionate fucking.

Will buried his face into Hannibal's neck, breathing in the scents of sweat and desire. His moans came low and needy as Hannibal's had just moments before, but he didn't give himself to desperation. He kept his hips thrusts slow and steady, letting Hannibal feel every inch of his cock filling him up for every pump of his hips. The slow burn of pleasure swelling in his cock was bliss in itself, enough to constitute not ever coming if it meant being joined like this forever.

“God … I love you.” Will whispered against Hannibal's jaw, “Fucking Christ, I am so in love with you.”

Hannibal moaned, arms locking tighter around him.

“I love you, Will ...” He whispered, his voice raw and hoarse and oh so tempting.

Will delved his fingers into Hannibal's hair, and tilted his head back with a gentle tug. Lifting his face from the warm crook of Hannibal's neck, he pressed his mouth over Hannibal's soft, plush lips. He spilled with moans as Will sealed their lips, and pressed his tongue past the sharp barrier of Hannibal's teeth. He tasted sweet, like wine and caramel, like wildflowers under a spring rain, like the freedom of the sea, like everything Will knew and loved; like he had become everything Will would ever need.

Hannibal kissed back with all the strength he could muster, lips and tongue sliding languidly over the passionate press of Will's mouth. He didn't let go until he felt Will stiffening against him, coming at last now that he'd been hard an aching for hours. His release was hot and abundant inside the clutch of Hannibal's body, and his body bucked hard and desperate against Hannibal's embrace. His mouth broke away from Hannibal's, spilling moans and cries of bliss.

The sound of Will's pleasure was unmatched to any music or composition Hannibal had ever heard. It was sacred to him, as sacred as a prayer could try to be. He clutched Will tight as Will panted and wilted against him, breathing out little whimpers of satisfaction that echoed down the halls of Hannibal's mind.

Beyond this house, Hannibal didn't dare consider himself so weak; but this moment was aside from reality. Here was safe; here was hallowed ground. Whatever cruelty Will gave him, he could take it because he knew this moment, this embrace and kiss and proclamation of love, was how it would always end. In any world, in any version of reality that might exist, Hannibal knew he would always be Will's. Until they were parted by death, he would always be safe in the four walls and roof of Will's embrace.

 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


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